Squad 4's Pregnancy Guide for the Unwed Shinigami
by ManonLeChat
Summary: He's a fun-loving sociopath. She's an alcoholic with a heart of gold. What could possibly go wrong? Gin, Rangiku, and Hitsugaya's worst nightmare. Humor. Crack. Complete!
1. Part I

_My crack-ish take on a 'Gin and Rangiku Have a Baby' scenario. Thank you for reading. Reviews are loved.  
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Fourth Division's Pregnancy and Child Rearing Guide for the Unwed Shinigami Mother

By eleven-thirty in the morning, Gin Ichimaru, Third Division Captain, had already completed his paperwork, sent Izuru scurrying on some amusing and completely unnecessary mission, given Shinsō a good rub down, taken a morning stroll, plotted the destruction of Soul Society over tea with Sōsuke Aizen, and carefully organized his ink brushes from fullest to finest.

There was still an hour to kill before lunch.

Gin eviscerated a few stray pigeons, took two more strolls, exchanged pleasantries and sake with the Captain of the Eighth Division, inspected security perimeters along the eastern Seireimon, and turned over a row of persimmons drying on the racks outside his office.

His mind wandering, and during the reorganization of his ink brushes according to date of acquisition, it occurred to Gin that it might be time to have a baby.

The thought surprised him, as Gin Ichimaru generally disliked children, especially babies. Babies were small, noisy, and spent most of their time being angry and unhappy.

In short, babies were exactly like Tōshirō Hitsugaya. (But smaller.)

Gin frowned and scratched his head thoughtfully.

On the other hand, if he could come up with five decent ("good" was a very high standard) reasons to do anything, Gin generally did it. He left a winded, just-returned Izuru in charge of the division and stepped out to mull the matter over during a fourth stroll. By the time he'd reached the Fifth Division training yards, Gin had come up with five very decent reasons why he should have a baby:

1. He was completely, utterly, bored this morning.

2. He and Rangiku Matsumoto had played house a few times as children, and that had been fun.

3. Making the baby would be _quite_ fun.

4. He suspected the news that Gin Ichimaru was having a baby might secretly piss off Byakuya Kuchiki, who had so obviously wanted an heir and whose late, beloved, droopy wife had so obviously been incapable. (Really, the air of suffering and penitence that had enveloped Hisana Kuchiki was so exhausting Gin considered it a mercy and relief to everyone when the poor thing finally drooped for good.)

5. A mini Gin (the baby would be a boy, he decided firmly) would be nice for Rangiku to have around once the original version wasn't.

6. And finally (six decent reasons!), Aizen-taicho estimated that the plans for the betrayal and overthrow of Soul Society were at least ten months from fruition, so Gin would still have plenty of time to help Rangiku and be a positive influence in a child's life.

It was resolved: Gin Ichimaru would be having a baby.

Delighted with his new course of action, he turned toward the Tenth Division's barracks.

* * *

Rangiku Matsumoto was in an irritable and indolent mood, due either to her mild hangover, or the multiple teetering stacks of paperwork pushed precariously to the edge of her desk. A single, very complex and small printed official form was directly before her. Above it, she studiously inspected her hair for split ends.

"Rangiku-chan..." Gin lilted, slipping into Tenth Division's office with both hands hidden theatrically behind his back. "Break time!"

With a flourish, he presented a jug of sake, a bulging paper sack, and a discounted bouquet of daffodils.

"Bean paste buns!" Rangiku cried, seizing the sack and knocking several stacks of paper off the desk.

"That's right," Gin confirmed cheerfully. He produced a small cup from his sleeve and filled it.

"Mmm, delicious," she declared with a mouth full of sticky dough and paste. Gin smiled proudly.

"So," Rangiku said, licking the last of the powdered sugar from her fingers, "What exactly do you want, Gin?" She lifted the cup to her lips.

"What do you say we have a baby?"

Rangiku choked, spat her drink out, and began to cough. Gin thumped her urgently on the back. She waved him off with one arm, dropped her head into the crook of the other, and laughed until she wheezed.

"That was a good one," she finally managed, looking regretfully at the empty cup and reaching for the jug.

"I'm very serious, Rangiku."

"No."

"No?"

"No."

Gin Ichimaru beamed his most wholesome, winsome, widest smile.

"_Please_?"

"Absolutely not."

"_Wh_y not?" he pressed.

"I'd get fat."

"But only for a little while! Then the baby comes out, and you get thin again," said Gin, demonstrating with his hands.

"You'd make a horrible father."

"How could you—"

"You disappear without warning."

"I promise I will never, ever disappear again," Gin vowed solemnly.

Rangiku's right eyebrow raised. Gin knew he was treading on thin ice.

"Do it for me?" he pleaded. The right eyebrow lowered. _Very_ thin ice.

Rangiku flicked her strawberry blonde hair off her shoulder and reached for another bun. Gin sensed that his dismissal was imminent. Clearly, a different approach was needed. Gin Ichimaru was clever, quick-thinking, resourceful. One didn't become Number Two Man to Sōsuke Aizen simply by being a triple-cross backstabbing bastard willing to murder a few hundred innocent souls.

He slid around her desk, cautiously leaned behind her and whispered:

_"Your boobs get bigger when you're pregnant."_

Rangiku froze mid-bite.

"What?"

"It's true. Two, three, maybe even four times bigger."

"Are you sure?" she asked, eying him suspiciously.

"You can trust me completely," said Gin, nibbling along her ear.

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_To be continued..._


	2. Part II

_Many thanks to **paperclipchains **for beta-reading.  
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_Gin —  
Now that Rukia Kuchiki has been located and returned to Soul Society, our schedule for the overthrow of Commander Yamamoto and the Gotei 13 has been advanced by— _

"GIN. YOU SQUASH-HEADED, FOX-FACED, SQUINTY-EYED SCARECROW."

Gin looked up from his reading.

"Lieutenant Matsumoto," he greeted his visitor with pleasant professionalism, tucking the note into his sleeve. "You're looking less than vibrant this morning. Are you not feeling well? A little hungover?"

"No, the problem is I am _not_ hungover," Rangiku answered, slamming Gin's office door in Izuru's anxiously protesting face. "I've just come from Division Four. I'm pregnant."

"Oh. I'd forgotten about that," Gin said, quite honestly. "Ah… Congratulations?"

"Not only am I_ not_ hungover this morning, _I cannot drink for eight more months_."

"Really?"

"You never mentioned that part!" Rangiku growled, banging her palms against his desk. Gin scooted his chair backward. As kids, he and Rangiku had participated in their share of knockdown, drag-out brawls, and he knew from painful experience that she fought dirty. Gin may have killed a man by the age of seven, but Rangiku Matsumoto _pinched_.

Rangiku stopped dead. She paled and gripped the edge of his desk with one hand, her mouth with the other. Her cheeks bulged.

"Izuru!" Gin squeaked, scooting further back and rescuing his waste paper basket. "Izuru!"

_A week later…_

"Can we name it Shinsō?" Gin asked, for the second time.

Rangiku was perched atop his desk, her attention on the pages of a book.

"Idiot. We are not naming our child after your dick."

In the doorway, Lieutenant Kira fainted, unnoticed, beneath an armful of replacement floor matting.

"That _also _happens to be the name of my Zanpakutō. I _like_ my Zanpakutō."

"I like _Little Rangiku_. Rangiku is such a nice name." She beamed.

"It's hardly original," Gin said, sulkily.

"The _Fourth Division's Pregnancy and Child Rearing Guide for the Unwed Shinigami Mother_ suggests naming your baby 'after a strong warrior you and your partner respect and admire'," Rangiku read aloud. She paused thoughtfully.

"Kaname Tōsen?" she suggested.

They locked arms and burst into laughter.

"Oh, I'm really gonna miss ya, Rangiku," Gin said, wiping the tears from his eyes and patting her arm.

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," said Gin, smiling very slightly. "Are you going to Rukia Kuchiki's execution tomorrow?"

Eight months later, a thin white figure glided among the shadows of the Fourth Division Maternity Hall in the wee hours of the morning, pausing to read the patient names above the doors. Locating the correct one, the figure stealthily opened the door and slipped into the room of a single occupant whose icy expression made it clear that the visit was neither unexpected nor welcome.

"You'd better not have hurt anyone getting in here," Rangiku warned as the figure stepped into the light.

"Of course not," Gin lied. He peered into the bassinet beside her cot. "He looks like me."

"_She_."

"She?" Gin squinted. "Really? It's so hard to tell."

Rangiku shot him a withering glare.

"How did it go?" Gin asked. He poked experimentally at the swaddled bundle in the bassinet.

"Another reason to want you dead."

Gin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"My captain is going to be her godfather," Rangiku informed him.

"Well, I don't like that at all, Rangiku." Gin crossed his arms in disapproval. "I should have been consulted."

"Delighted to hear it," she glowered and pitched a box of chocolates at him.

"Can I bring you two anything? Milk? Do babies drink sake?" Gin asked, unsuccessfully dodging and attempting to change the mood of the conversation on the off-chance Rangiku had stored her Zanpakutō in the delivery room. "I really would like to be helpful. Can I order Izuru to do something?"

"Eh, don't worry about it," Rangiku said, waving her hand moodily and falling back on her pillow. "I put Renji, Kira, and the Eleventh Division on a feeding and diaper schedule. Do you have any idea how often babies wake up?"

Gin opened his mouth.

"_All the time_!" she answered, sitting up again. "I guess motherhood is okay for _unattractive_ women, but how am I expected to get my beauty rest? What's the use of having bigger boobs if they're saggy from lack of sleep?"

She bounced them up and down several times to demonstrate her concern and a lack of sagginess that Gin noted keenly.

"By the way, Aizen agreed to deduct child support from your monthly paycheck."

Gin snapped back to attention. "Aizen did _what_?" His grin faltered.

"She does have your smile," Rangiku continued. She regarded the bundle with a hint of begrudging affection. "The nice one. Not the weird, low, evil fucking traitor one."

"Right!" said Gin. He snapped his fingers. "Decent reason Number Five!"

"Huh?"

Gin Ichimaru dangled his pinky finger fondly over the little silver head.

"We are going to have _so_ much fun together," he whispered, leaning over the bassinet with a heartwarming leer that caused Rangiku to sniff sentimentally and which, had she seen it, would have sent Rukia Kuchiki screaming into the 80th District of the North Rukongai.

* * *

Sōsuke Aizen was a reflective despot.

He acknowledged that, in the course of two centuries of nefarious evil doing, he had (occasionally) made mistakes. There had been some unfortunate choices, learning experiences, a smattering of mildly embarrassing missteps. Sōsuke Aizen even had _regrets._

At the moment, he regretted never having the foresight to summarily ban Take Your Daughter to Work Day when he took over Hueco Mundo.

"I'm sorry, Aizen-taicho," Gin said, sounding distinctly _un_-sorry to Aizen's ears as he shrugged his shoulders in his best _what-are-you-going-to-do?_ expression. "But I did promise. Her mother is very insistent about these things."

Aizen frowned. His Second-in-Command was a ruthless, duplicitous, downright creepy individual. Aizen approved of those qualities. But there was something about seeing his blood-soaked Second-in-Command standing next to an identical but smaller, equally blood-soaked version with an equally ghoulish smirk that raised the hair on the back of even Aizen's well-washed, well-exfoliated, and well-moisturized neck. Especially when one of the smirks was coated in pink lip gloss.

"It is important to encourage young girls," approved Tōsen from his position behind Aizen's throne. "Women have been unjustly excluded from management roles in the workforce. As a society, we must take care to encourage our children and not confine them with narrow gender roles." In sync, Gin and the smaller version swiped blood off their noses with their sleeves.

The Lord of Hueco Mundo and future Supreme God in Heaven dropped his forehead into his palm.

"Kaname, _shut up_. Gin, just clean up."

"Right away, Aizen-taicho!" said Gin cheerfully, reaching for his doppelganger's hand.

"You're going to kill him someday and take over, right?" the smaller version chirped, as they proceeded down the length of the throne room.

"Princess!" reprimanded Gin. "Aizen-taicho is Daddy's boss. How could you say such a thing?"

"Can I help?"

"Well… maybe," he reconsidered in a low voice, proudly patting her on the head. "If you promise not to tell Mommy," he warned.

"You can trust me completely," she assured him, eyes scrunched into half-moons and lips curved into one of her father's sweetest, most convincing smiles.

_Fin.

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**Update:** HUGE additional thanks to **paperclipchains/ghostwitch** for drawing this _perfect_ pic of Gin and Ran's daughter: http : / img [dot] photobucket [dot] com [backslash] albums [backslash] v634 [backslash] ManonLeChat [backslash] 4g16qx [dot] jpg


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